by Helen Brain
In the surgery Jamie pulled on a white coat, and was soon busy in the animal hospital. Arabella had been spaying dogs that morning, and Jamie’s first job was to check that all the dogs were properly awake from their anaesthetics.
She was amazed to see that they were all sitting up and wagging their tails. Jamie was sure that she wouldn’t be so cheerful if she had just had surgery. She checked that they hadn’t pulled out their stitches or chewed off their plasters. Finally she gave each a small bowl of water.
In the last cage was a Labrador puppy. He had eaten something rotten on his walk a few days before and had been very sick when his owner brought him in. He was still on a drip, but was looking much better.
Jamie rubbed his fuzzy head. “Hello, Spuddy. How are you feeling, Boy?” she murmured. Spuddy wagged his tail and licked her hand. “Mom says you can have a bit of food seeing you’re not vomiting anymore.” Jamie scooped a couple of spoons of a special diet into a bowl and gave it to the puppy. He wolfed it down without stopping to breathe. Obviously his appetite was back.
A few minutes later the consulting room door opened. “Jamie, can you come and help in here a minute, please?” Arabella called.
Arabella was in the consulting room with Mrs Van Heerden and Fluffy, a fifty kilogram Rottweiler with a bad attitude and foul smelling breath. He was muzzled but still snarling and growling. His owner was a tiny woman and there was no way she could hold the dog while Arabella examined him.
“He has an abscess in his mouth,” Arabella told Jamie. “I have to give him an injection of antibiotics. If it doesn’t clear up in a few days, we will have to sedate him and extract the tooth.”
“Will he be alright, Doc?” Mrs Van Heerden asked. “Is that why he’s been in such a bad mood? Is it dangerous?”
“Only to me,” Arabella said, looking at the hostile dog and gritting her teeth. She pulled on a glove and extracted liquid from a tiny bottle and into the injection needle. “Right, Jamie, you and Mrs Van Heerden hold his head tight.”
Jamie grabbed Fluffy’s collar, and Arabella gently inserted the needle into his skin. He gave a roar and jumped free. In a second he had whipped around and knocked Arabella over. He stood over her snarling. Stinky saliva dripped from the sides of his muzzle onto Arabella’s coat.
“Heel, Fluffy!” shouted Mrs Van Heerden. She grabbed hold of Fluffy’s head and tugged him away. Arabella struggled to her feet and straightened her glasses.
“Sorry, Doc,” apologised Mrs Van Heerden. “He caught us by surprise. Can you hold him tighter, girlie?”
“We’ll have one more try,” Arabella said, looking at the big dog dubiously.
Mrs Van Heerden caught Fluffy in her grip again, and Jamie took his collar and they held their breaths as Arabella had another go. This time she stuck in the needle quickly and injected the medicine. Fluffy whined and shook his head, splattering them all with his disgusting saliva.
“Gross,” squeaked Jamie.
“Sorry, Doc,” shrieked Mrs van Heerden.
“Well, that should do it,” Arabella said, wiping down her glasses with some paper towel. “All in a day’s work. Pop him in the car while I clean up and get him some tablets. Jamie, open the door for Mrs Van Heerden.”
The waiting room was crowded, and Fluffy couldn’t wait to get out of the surgery. He shoved past a smartly dressed woman and her daughter coming through the door. Jamie’s heart sank. It was the snooty girl from the riding school. Shardonnay.
“What’s that disgusting smell?” Shardonnay asked, looking Jamie up and down. “Have you trodden in something?”
Jamie blushed. “It’s nothing. I mean it is something, but it’s not me … I haven’t trodden in anything …”
“We’re new in town, and my pedigreed Chihuahua will only eat Costalot Premium dog food,” the smart lady said to Ilona, the receptionist. “I’m not sure a small vet practice like this one will stock it, but I need a small bag of the food, and a flea and tick collar …”
“Costalot?” Ilona said. “We’ve got some in the back. I’ll fetch it.”
Just then Arabella came out of the surgery with a pill container. “Jamie, won’t you take this to Mrs Van Heerden, please? She’s in her car.”
The smart woman stared at her. “Arabella? I’d have known you anywhere!”
Arabella stared back. “Um …”
“It’s me, silly. Liberty.”
“Liberty van Rensburg? We were at school together?”
“Exactly, except I’m Liberty Barker-Polls now. I married Roddy Barker-Polls – you might have read about him in the papers – big businessman?”
“Good Lord,” said Arabella, taking a step back and examining the glamorous woman. “You look fantastic. I didn’t recognise you.”
“We were all puppy fat and frizzy hair back in seventh grade, weren’t we,” Liberty chortled. “I have to say you haven’t changed a bit. And this must be your daughter.”
Jamie did a double take. Did the woman just insult them?
“This is my daughter, Shardonnay,” Liberty said, pushing the girl forward. “Darling, this is my oldest friend, Arabella. Shardonnay just adores animals, don’t you?”
“Pleased to meet you,” said Shardonnay, tossing back her long blond plait. “You’ve got something in your hair.”
Arabella looked flustered. She grabbed a tissue from the counter and wiped off a blob of stinking goo. “This is my daughter, Jamie,” she said. “She’s been working for me today.”
“We know each other,” Shardonnay said, wrinkling her perfect little nose. “I watched her lesson this week when I was waiting for mine. I thought you did quite well for a beginner.”
“I’m not a beginner,” Jamie said, blushing furiously. “I’m the top rider at the school. It was that stupid pony I was riding.”
“Ha-ha,” laughed Liberty. “Do you remember what Miss Jackson, the Domestic Science teacher, always said to us, Arabella? The poor workman always blames his tools. Remember how we used to laugh at her.”
“That was my last patient,” Arabella said, checking the computer screen. “Would you like to come across to the house for a cup of tea?”
“I’m terribly busy,” Liberty said, “but I suppose I can spare a few minutes.”
Jamie’s heart sank. When Shardonnay saw how old and untidy her house was she was going to be even nastier, she knew. And her bedroom was littered with all the clothes and books and CDs she was trying to sell. She’d have to find a way to keep her out of her room.
Liberty and Shardonnay followed them through the gate and across the lawn to their house. Arabella was showing them the patch of Snotterbel and explaining how healthy it was when Fungi came bouncing up to greet them, barking joyfully, followed by a drooping Fifi.
“Eeeeuw,” squealed Shardonnay as Fungi jumped up and put muddy paws on her white jeans. “Go away, go away.”
“Ooh thith!” exclaimed Fifi. “Fungi thtinkth! He’th been rolling in thomething thmelly!”
“Jamie, please shut your dog away,” Arabella snapped. “Look what he’s done to your friend’s pants.”
“She’s not my friend,” muttered Jamie as she dragged Fungi off by the collar. How dare Fifi say he had been rolling in something? He didn’t smell. Then she brightened up. I know, she thought, I’ll shut him in my room. Then Shardonnay won’t be able to come in and criticise all my stuff.
Liberty was looking around the messy hallway when Jamie came back downstairs. “Your house is so quaint,” she said, making the word sound like an infectious disease.
Just then Toby came slouching in from chess club. He saw Shardonnay and his jaw dropped. He smoothed back his hair, flexed his biceps and stuck his skinny chest out.
“Well, hello,” he said, trying to make his voice sound deep. “I’m Tobias. Who are you?”
Shardonnay peeped at him from under her eyelashes and simpered. “I’m Shardonnay.”
This girl is officially sick, Jamie decided. She had to be if she was f
lirting with Toby.
“Jamie, we’re going to sit in the garden,” Arabella said. “Please, will you make us a pot of tea?”
“I’ll do it, Mom,” Toby said, his voice sliding up into a squeak with excitement. “Do you want to give me a hand, Shardonnay?”
“I’d love to,” she said, twirling a strand of hair around her finger.
“What a lovely boy,” Liberty said. “Not at all like your daughter, is he?”
Jamie’s phone pinged as Shardonnay and Toby disappeared into the kitchen. Excellent! The advert had worked. Someone was coming to buy her old CDs and PC games. “Can you come in about an hour?” she texted back. Shardonnay should be gone by then. She seriously did not need Shardonnay knowing she was selling her old stuff to buy a horse. She’d never hear the end of it.
5
All that glitters
Arabella was standing at Ilona’s desk checking her surgery diary. “Ilona, it’s spay month and I promised to do some spays for the Cat Rescue Centre. We’ll have to do them after hours.”
“Well, just as long as you don’t expect me to help,” Ilona sniffed. “I’m training Justus for regional dog championships.”
Fifi came wafting in, all droops and sniffles. She caught sight of a flea collar lying on the desk. “Who’th ith thith?” she asked.
Ilona frowned. “That fancy woman, big car, Costalot Chihuahua food, was here yesterday.”
“Oh no!” Arabella exclaimed. “It’s Liberty’s. I’ll take it to her immediately.”
Ilona looked up with a scowl. “Are you a complete idiot? I’ll ring her up and tell her to come and fetch it.”
“Don’t bother, I’ll take it to her,” said Arabella, grabbing her bag and car keys. “I’m going to fetch Jamie from school anyway. Come along, Fifi.”
“Oh goody gumdropth,” Fifi said, picking up her miniature Yorkshire terrier, Snoopy. “We’re going to thee the rithh people’th houthe. You’re going to love it, Thnoopy.”
Ilona pursed her lips. “Just because she thinks she’s the queen, with her Costalot dog food, I don’t see why we should treat her like one. There’s more than enough to do here without making deliveries.”
A short while later Arabella turned her rusty station wagon into the long driveway of the Barker-Polls’ mansion. A guard signalled to her to stop.
“Arabella Waine to visit Mrs Barker-Polls,” she said.
“Open your boot, please,” he said peering through all the windows. “And write your name and ID number on this form.”
“I wonder what they think we’re trying to thmuggle in,” Fifi said. “It’th terribly exthiting.”
“Can’t we just leave the collar with the guard?” Jamie said. “I want to go and ride Oreo.”
“Don’t be silly, Jamie,” Arabella said, scribbling her details on the clipboard. “That would be rude. You ride him every day. You can spend some time today making friends with a very nice little girl who is new in town.”
The guard slammed the boot shut and pressed an intercom. “A Mrs Waine to see you, Madam,” he said.
“Arabella? What’s she doing here?” Liberty snapped. Then she sighed. “Fine, send her in.”
“See, Mom? She’s horrible, just like Shardonnay,” Jamie said. “Why don’t you believe me?”
“Oh nonsense, Jamie. You can’t be too careful in this day and age. In fact, I was saying to your father only yesterday that we don’t take security seriously enough in our home.”
Fifi was bouncing up and down on the backseat as they pulled into the visitor’s parking bay outside the enormous house.
“Oh oh oh!” she exclaimed. “It’th heavenly. It’th like thomething from Paradithe. Look at the thtone thwanth at the front door!”
Jamie had never seen anything as tacky in her whole life as the life size white swans that floated on pedestals on either side of the front door.
Then the door opened and out swooped Liberty. She floated towards Arabella on a cloud of silk and perfume. “Arabella, Darling,” she gushed. “What a wonderful surprise, so lovely to see you.” Behind her, with a thick scowl on her face, trailed Shardonnay.
Arabella wiped her sweaty hands on her jeans. “You forgot your flea collar, I mean the flea collar for your dog, obviously not yours … Anyway, I was in the neighbourhood and I thought I would bring it round.”
“In the neighbourhood?” said Shardonnay raising one plucked eyebrow. “There isn’t a house for miles.”
Arabella blushed. “Well, I thought I would just pop around …”
“Oh well,” said Liberty. “I am rather busy, but you may as well come in and see my new pink marble kitchen. Come along.”
“It’th tho awethome,” Fifi said, bouncing up the stairs after Arabella. “Come on,” she called to Jamie, “come and thee thith fabulouth houthe.”
Jamie crossed her arms and shook her head. There was no way she was leaving the car.
“Jamie,” said Arabella in a stern voice. “Don’t be rude.”
With a sigh Jamie got out of the car and followed her mother up the alabaster stairs.
“Come into the kitchen, Darling, I am just making my famous quiche for dinner. It tastes heavenly and is super low in calories,” Liberty said, patting her tiny waist. A smell like Toby’s socks permeated from the kitchen. Liberty breathed in deeply. “ah, the aroma of gorgonzola cheese. It’s marvellous, isn’t it?”
“I think that’s called toe jam,” muttered Jamie. Arabella shushed her with a scowl. The family trooped down the long passage behind Liberty.
“Jamie, look at thith exthquithite thandelier. It’th like thomething out of a fairy thtory.” Fifi squealed in delight. “Ooooh, look at thothe lovely thtatueth of doggieth. They look like Thnoopy. Are they real gold, Mithuth Barker-Pollth? Are your thtatueth pure gold?”
A small smile crossed Shardonnay’s face. “Of course,” she said, “24 carats.”
In the kitchen the smell was terrible – like dirty socks and compost all rolled into one. Liberty sniffed the air approvingly as she pressed the coffee machine with one manicured finger.
There was something odd about her face, Jamie thought. No matter how cross she got, or how happy, her expression never changed. It was super skinny, and pulled tight, like a whippet with its head out of a car window.
“Isn’t this aroma just marvellous?” Liberty cooed, picking up a plate with four knobbly brown balls on it.
“Are thothe doggy pooth?” asked Fifi. “Why are you having them in a thauther?”
“These,” said Liberty, “are truffles worth their weight in gold. Literally. They’re what make the
quiche so marvellous. But most people use mushrooms. They’re frightfully expensive.”
Liberty pulled herself away from her truffles. “Shardi, why don’t you take Jimmy and Fifi to see your room?”
“Jamie,” corrected Arabella.
“That’s right, Darling,” said Liberty. She clapped her hands. “Off you go children. Arabella and I are going to have a Skinny Latte and do some catching up.”
Arabella beamed.
Shardonnay looked like she would rather eat worms, and Jamie felt as sick as if she had just eaten some. Only Fifi was delighted. “Ooh goody gumdropth. Thhow me everything in thith thuper houthe.”
“Now here is the recipe,” said Liberty, thrusting a piece of paper into Arabella’s hands. “It has some psyllium in it to keep you regular. Remember that time at school when you had all that tummy trouble? Do you still get it now, Darling?”
Arabella smiled nervously. “I don’t know if our plumbing could handle anyone being more regular.”
“Oh I have the most marvellous plumber,” Liberty cooed. “Rodney Bogstripper. He’s exceptional. Tell him I sent you. He doesn’t visit just anyone. I’ll give you his card. Now run along, children. This is grown up time.”
6
The Golden Throne
The girls followed Shardonnay up the curving marble staircase towards her room.
“What’th in here?” asked Fifi looking up in awe at a door with a golden handle.
Shardonnay pushed the door open. “It’s the bathroom.”
Fifi walked inside with shiny eyes. “Wow, Jamie! Look at the bath and the bathin. They’re made of crythtal. And the loo! Oh wow! It’th got a gold theat. Can I thit on it Thardonnay, pleathe?” she begged.
“Knock yourself out,” snorted Shardonnay.
Fifi sat down on the toilet seat and a look of ecstasy came over her face. “I withh I lived here,” she sighed. “It’th like a fairy thtory.”
“My room is this way,” said Shardonnay sourly. “Come on.”
Shardonnay’s room made the rest of the house look positively plain. A huge crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling and in the middle of the room was a massive four poster bed. There was a big notice board above Shardonnay’s desk which was covered in rosettes.
Jamie looked at them enviously. “Did you win all of these?”
“’Course,” said Shardonnay smugly. “Bet you’ve never won anything on that fat little pony of yours.”
Jamie’s face got hot. “Firstly, he’s not my pony. Secondly, for your information, I have won before.”
Shardonnay laughed meanly. “With that ugly pony and no jodhpurs?”
Fifi interrupted them with a shout of delight as she bounced on the bed. “Oh, thith ith tho thoft. Feelth like it’th made of angel’th wingth.”
“Tell your cousin not to put her snot on my duvet,” hissed Shardonnay.
Jamie had had enough. It was all very well for the family to be mean about Fifi, but no one else could. “Don’t worry, we’re leaving. I don’t know what everyone sees in you. You are such a cow. Come Fifi, it’s time to go,” she spat.
Fifi followed meekly, stopping only to stroke the wall paper. “Why do we have to go now, Jamie?” she whined. “I wath jutht having fun.”
“Because Shardonnay is nasty and I don’t want to spend another minute here, that’s why.”
Fifi looked miffed. “Thhe theemed lovely to me. Thhe even let me thit on her loo.”
